


Fighting and Free

by Potrix



Series: Here We Are, Born to Be Kings [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Beach Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, Evil Crustaceans, Fluff and Crack, Hospitals, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, Romantic Gestures, Semi-Public Sex, Smitten Tony Stark, Spring Break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 00:36:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3999217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/pseuds/Potrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This,“ Bucky winces and adjusts the ice pack on his crotch, “is all your fault and I hate you. So much. You can’t even imagine.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fighting and Free

**Author's Note:**

> A short sequel to the Tony/Bucky High School AU. Basically just two dorks in love. And a little bit of alcohol and semi-public sex (accidents). 
> 
> Story and series title inspired by Queen's [Princes Of The Universe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEJ8lpCQbyw).

“This,“ Bucky winces and adjusts the ice pack on his crotch, “is all your fault and I hate you. So much. You can’t even imagine.”

Tony gasps, mock-affronted, but Bucky can feel him grin where he’s got his face mashed into the crook of Bucky’s neck. “Lies and slander! I am the very picture of innocence and virtue!”

“You’re shitfaced, is what you are,” Bucky corrects but can’t help himself when chapped lips start nibbling at his jaw, slides his free hand up and into Tony’s hair, giving it a gentle tug. “And an asshole.”

“You love me,” Tony croons happily and trails his fingers down Bucky’s arm to lace them together with Bucky’s, accidentally jostling the ice and making Bucky hiss out a pained breath. “Sorry,” he murmurs, kissing Bucky’s cheek, “I’m sorry. You know that, right? Like, immensely sorry, more sorry than anyone has ever been sorry before. Because I love you. And you’re hot. So hot. And mine. All mine.”

“Idiot,” Bucky chuckles fondly and tips his head against Tony’s, settling in more comfortably for the wait.

He’s got a sunburn that could win a sunburn competition if there were such a thing, his balls feel like they’re on fire, he’s pretty sure his husband is drooling onto his shoulder, and Bucky doesn’t actually care one bit which, come to think of it, is probably due to his own not entirely sober state.

“Hey, look,” Tony interrupts his tipsy musing, nudging a not as gentle as intended elbow into Bucky’s side and gesturing wildly at a couple across the waiting room. “We’re not the only ones! They were on our bus, so this is totally a group activity, part of the tour, meaning you can’t be mad at me for landing us here, Bucky Bear, because it was always supposed to end like this.”

Bucky is spared from pointing out the flaws in Tony’s drunken logic by a nurse calling his name.

***

“Let’s get out of here,” Tony yells over the music, pulling Bucky along by the hand, out from under the gazebo and farther down the beach, stumbling through the warm sand and smiling dopily up at him when Bucky moves in to catch him. “Hey, gorgeous.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, doll,” Bucky drawls and takes a moment to leer shamelessly, then leans down for a kiss.

Tony’s lips are sticky and sweet with a lingering taste of strawberries and litchis from whatever monstrosity of a cocktail he’d ordered last, parting instantly under the soft pressure of Bucky’s mouth with a delicious little moan.

It’s Tony who eventually breaks the kiss, only to dart in again for another peck that turns into two and then three before he finally turns around, taking Bucky’s hand again and leading him to a darker, more secluded area near the cliffs.

Bucky, having a fairly good idea where this is going to lead, is happy to follow, lazily rubbing his thumb across Tony’s knuckles and sipping at his own drink.

A simple rum and coke, even if Tony keeps rolling his eyes and calling him a philistine.

They round the corner, away from the main party, and Bucky freezes mid-step, unable to do more than stare at the sight in front of him.

“Surprise,” Tony grins, pressing up against Bucky and winding his arms around his waist. “You like?”

Garden torches are casting a warm, muted light over the blankets and pillows laid out carefully in a comfy alcove between several larger rocks, a picnic basket and cooler standing off to one side and a single red rose perched delicately against a radio playing something slow and smooth.

“You’re so fucking cheesy,” Bucky blurts even as he hauls Tony in closer to bury his nose in his always messy hair, hiding away his embarrassingly damp eyes. “Shit, yeah, of course I like it, you dork.”

“Then come on,” Tony laughs as he disentangles himself and flops down into the middle of their little nest, “get yourself over here, stud.”

Bucky doesn’t need telling twice, crawling right on top of Tony and bringing their lips back together, deep and lingering. “Whaddaya think they’ll charge us with if we get caught?”

“Underage drinking, probably,” Tony shrugs, completely unperturbed. Then he smirks, biting at his bottom lip as he adds, “Public indecency. Definitely that one.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Bucky accuses mildly, not protesting in the slightest when Tony starts undoing the strings of his swim trunks, sneaking his hand inside as soon as he’s got enough room and curling his fingers around Bucky’s rapidly hardening cock.

“Don’t hear you complaining,” Tony breathes huskily and no, Bucky is most definitely not about to do that.

They take their time, despite their respective buzzes and the chance of someone walking by at any moment, Bucky teasing Tony open until Tony is whining and pleading and growling at him all at once.

Tony is sprawled across Bucky’s chest half an hour later, unashamedly naked, playing idly with a strand of Bucky’s hair while Bucky feeds him cherry pie, passing a bottle of something Bucky is pretty sure someone brewed up in their cellar back and forth between them.

“I thought you’d prefer this over, you know,” Tony murmurs almost shyly, gesturing in the general direction of the party still going strong at whatever o’clock in the morning it must be by now, “all that. I know you’re not one for big crowds ever since the thing.”

He reaches out at that, tugging at Bucky’s prosthetic arm to brush a feather-light kiss over his wrist. “So, thanks for coming. Here. With me.”  
Bucky doesn’t say anything, just smiles and rearranges them so Tony’s straddling him, which he regrets a minute later once Tony has the brilliant idea to trickle his alcohol all over Bucky and lick it off his chest instead of drinking it like a normal person.

It makes for a pretty picture, but it tickles, all right?!

They’re snickering and wrestling playfully, exchanging increasingly uncoordinated kisses that land everywhere but the intended spots, grinding against each other and fighting over the bottle that’s steadily growing emptier and it’s nice.

It’s really nice right up until-

“Fuck!” Bucky howls through the sudden, stinging pain between his legs, shoving a squawking and wildly flailing Tony off of him to have a closer look and-

And turns a withering glare on Tony when the idiot starts laughing.

***

“What happened?” Steve demands the moment he spots Bucky and Tony hobbling out of the hospital, quickly slinging the arm Tony isn’t attached to over his shoulders to support them both. “Are you okay?"

“Bucky has crabs,” Tony supplies cheerfully and Bucky closes his eyes, wishing he had a hand free to pinch the bridge of his nose. Tony babbles on, completely unconcerned and oblivious to everyone in a ten foot radius suddenly staring at them. “Well, one crab. And had. It’s gone now. His name was Eugene Krabs and he shall _not_ be missed.”

Which is when they, thankfully, reach the car, clambering into the backseat with a lot of help from Steve and Sam who’s already sitting there, brows drawn together in concern as he asks, “What happened?”

Tony repeats his earlier explanation, of course he does, before slumping against Bucky’s side and instantly falling asleep.

“He threw up on the doctor,” Bucky grumbles because like hell is he going to be the only one getting embarrassed in front of all his friends tonight. “And then slipped in the puddle on our way out.”

This is followed by a long moment of stunned silence before the person in the passenger seat clears their throat. “So,” Natasha begins, “do I want to know?”

“Sex on the beach sounds so much more comfortable than it actually is,” Bucky sighs despairingly, shifting in his seat to find a position that doesn’t send shivers of pain zipping up his spine. “Stitches in your balls, however, are exactly as comfortable as you’d expect. Which is not. At all. Crustaceans suck. This is why I love sea food, little fuckers totally deserve to be eaten.”

“Dude,” Clint squeaks from behind the wheel, sounding strangled with forcefully held back laughter. “What the hell?”

**Author's Note:**

> Go check out my other [work](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/works), or come over and say hi on [tumblr](http://potrix-the-queerschlaeger.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> For more winteriron fun, visit [imaginetonyandbucky](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/) where you can leave your prompts and headcanons, and receive mini-ficlets in return.


End file.
